


Tornado's Thoughts

by mixiz877



Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Hurt Zorro, POV Tornado
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:50:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mixiz877/pseuds/mixiz877
Summary: Four one-shots - episode tags to the WD series, all from the 1st person POV of Tornado, Zorro's faithful steed.





	1. Saving the Fox

From: Garcia stands accused

 

*Saving the Fox*

Tornado POV

We were chasing along the landscape, on the heels of another rider. His horse was no match for me. Stretching my legs, I made up ground easily, bringing my rider next to the other man. In an instant, I felt lighter as my master leaped off my back, landing behind the other rider on his horse.

Slowing my pace a bit I stayed behind, ready for when my master, whose clothes were as black as my coat, would need me again. My master was a good man. He risked his life to help others. They called him El Zorro, the fox. I don't know much about foxes, I'm only a horse. But if those animals are anything like my master, they certainly were clever, sly, agile and always had an escape route ready.

Leisurely galloping behind the other horse, I saw Zorro fighting with its rider. He slid off the side of the steed, hanging in mid air next to the horse's body, which was in full flight. The other rider was trying to push Zorro off the horse, using anything to help him accomplish that.

Angrily, I snorted. I loved my master and I'd do anything to ensure he wasn't hurt. Seeing him in such a vulnerable position, being assaulted by the other rider, wasn't to my liking. I decided to up my speed to catch up with them again.

Just as I got close enough, I saw both riders falling off the other horse, rolling down a ravine at high speed. I dug my hind hooves into the sandy ground and turned around, carefully peering over the edge of the ravine.

What I saw was not to my liking. The men had rolled down all the way to the bottom. My master had come to a stop with his head hitting a rock and he wasn't moving. I flared my nostrils in concern and slowly made my way over the edge. The other man had been lucky. He was picking himself up slowly but he seemed unharmed.

Realizing his opponent was out for the count, the villain grabbed a large club and set to make his way towards Zorro, who still wasn't moving. I recognised the man's intentions and fury ran through my body. Not caring anymore about the steepness of the hillside, I let out a shrill whinny and burst towards the man who was raising his club.

He noticed me, realizing I charged straight at him, and used the club to defend himself from my prowling hooves. Rising onto my hind legs, I used my front ones to drive the man off my master. I snorted and whinnied as loud as I could. On the one hand, I tried to scare the man; on the other hand, I tried to rouse my master.

Finally, as I had backed the villain into a corner, from the edge of my vision I noticed the black silhouette stirring. Zorro got to his feet, wobbling a bit and holding his head. He took in the situation and, drawing his sword, he called for me to back down and took charge of the prisoner I made.

Once the man was secured onto his own horse, I walked up to my Zorro, nuzzling at his chest. He smiled at me, rubbing his gloved hand gently over my nose. It was his way of thanking me. To me, he seemed like he was in pain, but he tried not to show it. I knew it from the way he looked at me. His pain showed in his eyes.

Mounting me slower than usual, I promised him with a snort to look out for him. He felt my concern and patted my neck, trying to reassure me.

"Go, boy," he gently urged me and soon we were on our way to bring yet another scoundrel to justice.

***zzz***

We were flying over the grassy rolls of the rough land around us, heading towards home. Zorro had delivered the man to the cuartel, via the wall and the roof, and had returned the stolen payroll to the waiting soldiers. They appreciated their money so much that none even bothered chasing after us. Usually we would lead them on a wild goose chase until it was time to lose them in order to return home.

So this time our home coming was rather uneventful. Passing through the vines into the cave, I was looking forward to a drink of water and some hay. Zorro dismounted and saw to it that I was well cared for. Then he came up to me again, laying his arms around my neck, resting his head on my shoulder.

"Gracias, mi amigo," he rasped. "I'm sure I would feel a lot worse right now if you hadn't kept the messenger off me. I'm not even sure I'd be alive otherwise." Not changing his position, he lifted his right hand and gripped my mane. "Thanks to you, I only have to deal with a headache and some bruises. I think I need to rest a bit, to reduce the soreness I feel..."

Zorro leaned even more into me and I nibbled playfully on his back. Usually he didn't allow this too long but this time he didn't protest. I only noticed something was off when his right hand slid out if my mane the same time his knees gave in and he fell to the ground with a thump.

I nudged him with my head, but his eyes stayed closed and he made no sound. I snorted, concerned. So I started to nibble on the crook of his neck, still no reaction. Lifting my head I whinnied, softly first, then louder, hoping to alert his human friend, Bernardo.

When there was no sound from the passageway, I started stomping my hooves on the stone floor. Just as I was about to become frantic, I heard footsteps rushing our way and Bernardo appeared in the cave. He looked at me, then at the still form at my hooves and sprang to life.

After a few attempts, Bernardo managed to rouse Zorro. He helped his friend stand up and grabbed his arm tightly for support. Smiling at me, he then made to help his groggy friend out of the cave towards his room.

I watched the pair disappear, glad to see my master walking on his own two feet. That impact with the boulder must have been quite hard and I was sure Zorro would need a day's rest to recover. And that meant a day's rest for me, too. Happily, I started munching on my hay, but as much as I would enjoy the rest, I knew I would enjoy my next outing with the fox even more.


	2. The Day Garcia Caught Me

From: Zorro by proxy

 

*The Day Garcia Caught Me*

Tornado POV

It was a hot day. I was watching how my master and his friend were slashing away at the brush to hide crates filled with something boring. At least it didn't smell edible to me. The smell rather made my nostrils itch and I snorted at the thought of it. My companions were quite busy but at my snorting the shorter one, Bernardo he was called, looked up and decided to check the distance.

The two were always hiding from the others of their own species if they wore a uniform. This time, Bernardo wouldn't have to go and check the area if he had a fine nose like me. I had smelled the other horses and their riders already. Another reason for my nose to itch. As I snorted again, Bernardo came rushing back to where his friend was. For some reason the smaller man was unable to utter sounds, whereas his companion had no trouble doing so.

I loved the voice of my master and I loved the way he played games with me, like hide and seek. He'd tell me to hide and then he'd hide himself. At his whistle, I was supposed to find him. Easy task. My ears were excellent and when I got close enough I could even smell him. He smelled good. He didn't make my nostrils itch. Training my attention back to my master and his friend, I saw the smaller man talking in his usual hand signals.

My black clad friend, he was as black as my coat, another reason we worked so well together, if you ask me, well, he went to look for himself what Bernardo had signed to him. Then he came to me.

"Lead them away from here, Tornado," he said, patting me on my back. Tornado. That's what he called me. I loved the sound of it. Nodding my head, I went to approach the big soldier. He had climbed off his horse and was obviously looking for something. Probably for whatever it was my master was trying to hide.

I was almost on top of the soldier when he noticed me. He made to call out but changed his mind. Picking some half-dried grass off the ground, he offered it to me.

"Take the nice grass, horsey," he said, walking up to me. Did he really think I'd want to eat that? No. In my cave, I got tasty apples and aromatic hay as well as crunchy oats. Grass was nice, too, but not if it had almost the same color as the rocks around it. I kept backing up, always in mind not to take the direction in which my master was standing.

This game was funny but also boring. The big soldier was persistent and kept coming closer with the smelly grass. It must have disrupted my sense of smell because all of a sudden, I felt a rope closing around my hind hoof and I was trapped. I didn't even smell the other soldier. Ah well, no struggling now. It would only serve to draw out my master. And I was sure he'd come and get me, wherever I'd be. It would be a nice change for once.

***zzz***

Oh, this humiliation. Here I was in the cuartel, having to endure the soldiers painting me with cold, white color. And that ridiculous straw hat they put on me was definitely much better for eating than anything else. The big soldier, Garcia, I think they call him, seemed quite pleased with the handiwork of the other soldier. I wasn't, but nobody bothered to ask me.

I looked around the cuartel, seeing if it was possible to get away on my own accord. No dice. The short soldier, Reyes, crossed my line of vision when he stomped off with the offending paint bucket. He didn't look happy. But why should he fare better than myself? Just then, I heard Garcia behind me call out.

"Bring me a bucket of water before you go up to your quarters, Corporal!"

The soldier didn't move. He only pouted and crossed his arms defiantly, then went to sneak up the stairs anyways.

"Bring me a bucket of water!"

Snorting softly, I took pity on the big soldier. Using my lips, I pulled the knot free that tied me to the beam. Then I walked over to where I had seen a bucket of water. I picked it up between my teeth and walked over to Garcia, dropping the bucket next to him before I returned to my spot. On the top veranda, I made out Reyes watching the scene with a silly grin on his face.

"Gracias," the big soldier called.

De nada, I snorted softly.

"If my back didn't itch so much I could sit here a hundred years and never move," Garcia sighed out loud. Hmm, his back was itching, was it? That could be remedied. I walked back to the soldier and started shoving at his back using my head.

"Oh, that feels good, Corporal."

Corporal? Do I have a mustache? I will show him, confusing me with the short soldier. I doubled my shoving efforts slowly.

"My, what soft hands you have," Garcia drawled. Oh no, this man was even more confused than I had thought. Soft hands indeed. Running out of patience, I pushed harder and faster at the soldier's back.

"Not so hard, Corporal. It was so much nicer when you did it easier..." Garcia trailed off. I had enough. He had called me Corporal once too many. By now, he was starting to realize that something was off. Garcia turned and got a fright, seeing it was me behind him and not that silly corporal. Losing his balance, the big man fell off the chair into the footbath and rolled all around. I had seen enough. Had I been able to, I would have laughed. Since I couldn't, I decided to take pity on him, picking up the hat Garcia had lost in his tumble and dropping it into his hands.

"Gracias," Garcia started and then looked sheepishly, realizing he had just thanked a horse. Well, my friend, I'm no ordinary horse.

At that moment, I saw my master enter the cuartel. He did look different. Usually he was dressed all in black. Now, however, he was wearing a rusty brown suit. He still smelled the same, though. I snorted slightly but he ignored me.

"What are you doing, Sergeant?" I heard my master call out to the big soldier, who was still sitting on the ground.

"Don't ask, Don Diego. I thought... then I turned around and... anyway, he started it." Garcia sounded somewhat flustered, pointing at me.

My master laughed heartily. "And I believe he finished it, too." With that, he gave the soldier a hand to help him up. I took the moment to approach my friend again, but he merely took a step back and pointed away from him. Alright, another game. Pretend not to know him. Fine, I'll play.

"Gracias," the sergeant thanked my master, who now took in my appearance. Oh, how silly I must have looked.

"I noticed the peculiar markings on your new horse, Sergeant," my master remarked. "I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like it."

Did I look that bad? Oh dear.

"I don't think he quite likes it, either," Garcia replied. Damn right you are. Now that the paint has dried, it's starting to itch and pull on my coat when I move.

Then the big man's voice became somewhat secretive. "This is Zorro's horse," he told my master.

Zorro. That's what they call my master. At least when he's in the black outfit. It made me wonder. Did Garcia not know he was talking to Zorro? It didn't look like it. Usually when they call his name they start chasing us. Not this time.

"Zorro's horse?" My master sounded astounded. "But... how in the world...?" Oh dear, is everyone confused today? My master knew it was me. Why did he act so... weird?

"Never mind how," Garcia replied. I walked off. I had about enough of this charade. I had enough of the paint and the straw hat. Finding a quiet place, I started to doze a bit.

***zzz***

Around evening, I noticed a commotion in the cuartel. Earlier, someone had taken pity on me and washed that paint off. I enjoyed feeling normal again. Now, however, I felt alarmed. They were dragging someone into the jail cells. Someone who didn't move on his own accord. And that someone smelled like my master. I snorted, agitated. He wouldn't be sleeping at this time of day and yet I saw, when they dropped him on the cot in the cell, he didn't move. I didn't like it one bit.

The sergeant sat guard in front of the cell. I was happy seeing that life returned to my master not long after. He got up and he was furious. I had never heard him yell at someone the way he did now at Garcia. The soldier must have said something to calm him because my master sounded a bit less furious thereafter.

When it got dark, I heard he sergeant, who was still sitting in front of my master's cell, starting to snore. Oh joy. I tried to focus on something else so I could maybe rest a bit when I heard a hissing sound.

Lifting my head, I noticed my master signaling to me. I freed myself from the rope again and walked over to the cell. My friend was pointing at something at Garcia's side. The cell keys. Of course. Gently picking the key ring up with my mouth, I dropped them carefully into my master's hands.

Watching my friend as he unlocked the cell to withdraw the soldier's saber, I felt the rush of adventure flooding my veins. I knew it wouldn't take long until I could run to my heart's content. I wasn't disappointed.

Having fashioned a similar outfit Zorro usually wore, my master woke up the sergeant and got him to open the gate of the cuartel. Then all hell broke loose when he jumped onto my back and I raced towards freedom.

Just as I was going through the gates, I felt the familiar weight of my master missing. Unable to stop in time, I was in the plaza as the gates closed again. I could only think of one thing to do. I trotted up to my usual waiting spot at the rear cuartel wall. From inside there came the sounds of clashing swords. There was a lot of shouting and running and shooting and finally my master appeared over the wall.

The chase was on. As soon as I felt my master on my back, I raced off into the night, carrying my friend to safety.


	3. Seized By Loyalty

From: Zorro springs a trap

 

*Seized By Loyalty*

Tornado POV

Zorro's legs were urging me to top speed racing across the plains toward the pueblo. There had been real urgency in all his actions when he'd entered the cave to saddle me. His movements were slightly harsher than usual and he didn't take time to caress my neck like he used to do all the other times.

As we raced onto the plaza, I got a vague idea of why he behaved that way. All over there were peons and carts blocking the garrison gate. Close by there was a wooden cage on a cart holding... Zorro? Now I got confused. Zorro was in the cage, and yet I was carrying him. I snorted and started dancing around in circles, making it difficult for my master to keep me on one spot.

I smelled danger and had a strange sense of foreboding. I knew the Zorro I was carrying was the real one. The other one smelled different, like he was afraid. My master was never afraid. At least not while I was around. I could hear him shouting over all the commotion, warning the peons about a trap.

Some of them grabbed the caged black man and ripped the mask off. A hectic scramble resulted as they realized they had been tricked and tried to clear up and get away before they were arrested. This ruckus made me nervous. I wanted to run. Just then, the garrison gates opened and the soldiers tried to get past the obstacles to give chase.

Finally, my master gave me the headspace I needed to run. Jumping over a cart, galloping around a corner, I was eager to get as much space in between us and the soldiers when the unthinkable happened. I slipped.

The next thing I knew, I clattered to the ground along with my master. The soldiers were still hot on our heels so I jumped up, shaking the dust off, waiting for my master to mount again. But he was still lying in the dirt, dazed. I felt so sorry. I never yet slipped with him on top. I just hoped he wasn't hurt bad.

Zorro sat up just when a lasso came whirling, effectively tying his arms to his torso. He was caught, and it was my fault. In my panic, I sped off, only thinking about not getting caught so I could help Zorro. Behind me, I heard the capitán shout for the others to capture me. I snorted softly. They'd never be able to get me.

Then it occurred to me that being caught along with my master might make it easier for him to escape, so I slowed until the soldiers caught up with me. I felt bad when I let them throw a rope over my neck, but I had to help my friend. When I was finally brought to the cuartel stables, however, it seemed like my master had managed to escape on his own. I should have known it. Ah well, he'd get me out of there, of that I was sure.

Sometime later, they brought me into a small, makeshift paddock in the middle of the plaza. From the talk all around, I learned they planned to auction me off. I felt offended. How could they do that? I already had a master. I wouldn't want to swap him for anything, or anyone for the matter. Agitated, I trotted around my prison, rearing every now and then, trying my best to give the impression of being a horse that's rather dangerous to own.

On the beams of the paddock, two of the soldiers were leaning, discussing the upcoming auction. The big sergeant said something about thinking I like him. I snorted. Sure I liked him. I liked to tease him, to trick him. Okay, I also liked him just so, but I wouldn't want to be his. One more reason to act up and pretend to be a volatile, high-spirited mount.

The two soldiers left and the sergeant entered the tavern. More curious faces appeared to watch me. I almost didn't have to pretend my agitation anymore. I simply wasn't used to so many people around me. It made me feel uneasy. Finally, I noticed my master stepping out of the tavern. He looked different again. No black outfit. But it was him. I'd recognise him anywhere.

I sent a soft whinny in his direction. Please, get me out of here. He strode over to stand at the barricade and watched on as the sergeant opened the bidding. It looked like my plan was working, since nobody dared bid. Only when the sergeant pressed on, his fellow soldier, the corporal, put in a bid. The corporal!

Oh joy. What would become of me if the corporal owned me? Would they make me chase after my master? Ah, the mere thought was agony. Funny enough, I noticed my master looking quite pleased when the auction came to a conclusion with the corporal winning the bidding. He must have a plan. And if he had a plan, all would be well. I calmed down in relief.

Evening came and I was still in the paddock. Someone had put torches all around the banister to light the place. I didn't like the fire. If there was one thing I didn't like, it was fire. The darker it got, the more the fire scared me.

A shadow made its way towards me. I snuffled softly when I recognised my master's friend, Bernardo. He looked around and then started handing me some hay to eat. Eagerly I accepted and he shoved more of it underneath the beams. Just then, I noticed we weren't alone. I pricked my ears up, and the next moment the sound of a whip slicing the air pierced the soft crackling of the torches.

Bernardo fell to the ground as a soldier stepped closer, questioning him. Everyone knew Bernardo couldn't speak but apparently this soldier was either new or stupid. Maybe both, come to think of it. He kept pressing Bernardo into telling him what he was doing here, ignoring the man's signs that he couldn't speak. Anger was building up inside me again and all my muscles tensed.

When the soldier started to make use of the whip again, Bernardo swiftly crawled underneath the beams into the paddock toward me. Now I could do something. The soldier leaped over the banister and continued whipping at Bernardo. I tried to place myself in between them when the whip hooked onto one of the torches, pulling it loose. It fell to the ground and the hay as well as the wood beams started catching fire quickly.

Yikes, I didn't like it one bit. The soldier didn't seem to care and kept attacking. Finally, Bernardo managed to scramble out of the paddock. I reared up, using my front hooves to attack the soldier, who now paid all attention to me.

"So you want to fight, do you?" he called, cracking the whip at me. The crack of the whip riled me up even more and I was furious now. I wasn't merely trying to intimidate the soldier now. I wanted to get him. I saw Bernardo scrambling into the tavern, while the lancer actually succeeded in getting me with his whip. The whole paddock was on fire now but I didn't care anymore. Once again, I reared up and this time my hooves made contact with the man.

"Fire, fire!" As people poured out of the tavern, the plaza suddenly got very busy. While I was still furiously prowling and stomping at the soldier, he kept swinging his whip at me. Behind the soldier, I saw my master and Bernardo rushing out of the tavern. My master stopped short, shocked by the view that greeted him. Another lash of the whip caught my across my chest and I screamed.

My master sprang to life, trying to rush to my aid. I've never seen him so livid before. It took Bernardo's whole strength to hold him back and bring him to his senses. He stopped short and then dashed back into the tavern, Bernardo hot on his heels.

In the meantime, I managed to get a couple of blows onto the soldier who dropped the whip and tried to protect himself with his arms building a shield in front of him. Commotion from the garrison heralded the other lancers arriving. The soldier who attacked me finally fell to the ground, not able to protect himself anymore. I backed up, frantically trying to figure out an escape route through the blazing barriers.

The sergeant ordered his lancers to pull their companion to safety, which they did. I moved around the paddock, still looking for an opening to escape, when I saw a familiar black shadow appear on the tavern balcony. Grabbing a rope, Zorro swung on it towards me, kicking the burning beams down with his boots. He ran to me and jumped into the saddle.

With my master guiding me now, I felt more confident. I knew he'd direct me to safety. The crowd called Zorro's name in awe as he pressed his legs into my flanks and pulled the reins up, and the two of us jumped over the still burning fence to freedom. I raced across the plaza, between the buildings and out of the pueblo. On the dirt path to the de la Vega lands, I reached top speed and only reduced it once my master urged me to slow. From the hillside, we halted as we could still make out the faint flickering of the fire in the plaza.

Zorro rubbed his gloved hand over my neck carefully. After a moment it was clear we weren't being followed so we made our way to the cave at a leisurely pace. Arriving in the safety of the hideout, Zorro dismounted and removed the saddle immediately. Then he checked me over for wounds from the lashes. I didn't even feel any pain before now. The burning was there but it wasn't too bad.

"I'm so sorry, Tornado," Zorro whispered over and over as he took a wet cloth and wiped off the wheals and applied a soothing ointment. I nuzzled his chest to tell him I was fine and he smiled at me. When he had seen to all my sore spots, he refilled my water bucket and fetched a few apples which I gratefully devoured.

Zorro had taken a step back, sitting on the edge of a small table, watching me. Despite the mask, I could see the pain in his eyes. Pain, not from being hurt himself, but from seeing me hurt. I walked over to him and rested my head in his lap, nibbling on the now ungloved hands. A tight smile appeared on his face and he rubbed one hand over my forehead, picking a strand of straw out of my mane.

I snorted softly, thanking him. I couldn't ask for a better master and I was happy we were reunited now. Despite the near disaster today, I was looking forward to our next adventures together.


	4. The Fox's Uncle

From: Tornado is missing

*The Fox's Uncle*

Tornado POV

The summer breeze was rushing through my mane as I ran across the plains to my heart's content. It has been a while since I ran freely. Usually, I'm carrying my friend, the fox, or Zorro, as they call him. Don't get me wrong, I love my Zorro and we've braved many adventures together. But sometimes it simply feels great to run where I want to go.

So when the opportunity presented itself to me this morning, I seized it. I was feeling a bit restless and was moving around the cave, when I accidently backed into the beam that blocked my way out. I must have unhooked it somehow, since it clattered to the ground with quite a racket. Temptation was just too great. I had to run, and I did.

I had planned to return when my longing for freedom had been satisfied, but fate had another idea. Stopping on a particularly fine spot, I whinnied out my joy. I shouldn't have done that. At least not without checking the surrounding area first. I ought to have learned that from my master. But I did it and sure enough a few moments later a strange caballero approached on horseback.

I had half a mind to turn on my hind hooves and run, but something made me stay rooted to the spot. At first, I didn't know what it was, but when I drew in more air through my nostrils, I realised a faintly familiar smell. I almost expected my master, his father or his friend to be the one approaching. But my eyes were telling me a different story.

The horse I knew. He was from the stables belonging to my master's father. But who was the rider? I was about to find out what he was up to, though, when he dismounted and came up to me, asking me loads of silly questions. Before I knew it, the man grabbed my mane and asked me if I could run.

What a question! My master didn't call me Tornado for nothing. Running is my favourite thing to do. Swinging himself on my back, the strange man who smelled somewhat familiar dug his heels into my sides and I sped off. I raced once around the open field before stopping next to my fellow horse and the man dismounted.

He praised my speed and kept talking about winning a race. I always win races. They never managed to catch me, riding with Zorro. Unless I let them, that is. By now, I also realized why the stranger smelled familiar. He must be staying where my master lives. That would explain the horse he came with as well. And if he stayed with my master, he must be a friend. So I didn't resist when the man started leading me away.

When we reached the old winery, however, I became uncertain. What was I supposed to do there? That was neither my cave nor my master's stables. While I was still trying to sort my confusion, I felt a rope being slid over my neck. Then I ended up tied to a beam and the stranger left the winery, carefully bolting the door. Great. Nothing else to do now but wait.

I had been dozing a little when suddenly I heard voices and steps approaching the winery. Sure enough, the door was unbolted and in came the stranger along with two lancers. I knew them. I've had to endure their company once before and I snorted softly, briefly thinking back to the sergeant and the corporal painting my hide and putting an old straw hat on my head. Not one of my prouder moments, but I got them back.

The familiar smelling stranger proudly presented me to the sergeant, who somehow didn't seem to recognize me. That was remedied by the corporal. I just didn't know if that was good or bad.

"So, you're Zorro's horse?" the stranger, whom the sergeant called Don Estevan, mused.

"I knew him the moment I walked on," said the sergeant with boisterous self-confidence. Liar, I snorted good-naturedly.

Don Estevan was making plans for me and told the lancers explicitly what he wanted them to do. They were not to open the winery door for anybody but himself. Quite inconvenient for me. I pawed my front hooves a little and the sergeant jumped to the conclusion that I must be hungry. Figures, that he made the assumption. But I could do with a bit of hay to nibble on.

Shortly thereafter, Don Estevan left the soldiers and me alone and the corporal went about the business of fixing a bed for himself. Oh joy, that meant I wouldn't get any privacy tonight. Hooray.

A good while later, there was a knocking on the door. The sergeant readied himself by drawing his saber.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Don Estevan."

"How do I know it's you?"

"Open the door and see for yourself."

Oh, Sergeant. You are so gullible. If it wasn't Don Estevan and you opened the door, it would be too late. At least Garcia had the presence of mind to let the corporal unbolt the door while he awaited the newcomer with his sword ready. I, of course, knew it was Estevan. I recognized his voice. No wonder Zorro was never caught if they weren't even able to tell whose voice belonged to who.

The door was bolted again after Estevan had entered. He said he had decided to watch out for me himself. I wonder where this change of heart came from.

I didn't have time to think about that as a shrill whistle pierced the night. I knew that whistle. My master was calling for me. I had to get to him, but I was still tied up and locked in. I started prancing around, snorting and whinnying. I wanted out. Zorro whistled again and my unrest grew.

The soldiers and Estevan picked up on my agitation immediately and Estevan came to the right conclusion.

"It's Zorro. He must be here." You bet he was. Time for me to go, let me be free. But no, instead of untying me, the trio ran to the door and, opening it, dashed outside to look around. The whistling had stopped. I heard Estevan ordering the lancers to search. Then Garcia had the idea, prompted by the corporal's fear, to guard the only door.

Apparently, they didn't guard it well enough or all three of them were deaf and blind. Only a few moments after, I heard the soft steps of my master approaching me. I even recognized his steps. In no time, I was untied and immediately made use of my freedom by turning around.

"Let's get back inside," I heard Estevan say. "Let him come to us."

Upon hearing this, my master, agile as a cat, climbed up on the storage railing and took cover. When Estevan noticed I was free, he correctly assumed that Zorro was already in the building. Funny enough, he didn't even think of bolting the door again. Very convenient, muchas gracias.

Looking around, Estevan picked up a ladder and leaned it to the storage platform to climb on top, Garcia and Reyes on his heels. I almost snorted, amused, when my master stopped the soldiers ascent by throwing a box at them. Then he took cover behind some vats as Estevan grabbed a wooden hammer and the lancers tumbled to the ground, ladder and all.

Estevan tried to corner Zorro, who laughingly countered his plans and sent the man tumbling. Grabbing a rope, he swung himself towards me, kicking the beam off my stall. Then he mounted swiftly and guiding me by the rope tied around my neck, we escaped through the still open door into the night.

Not far away, my master stopped me short and caused me to rear up. I enjoyed my freedom and my master's presence and pawed the night air, seeing that Estevan and the soldiers had run outside and were watching us. Then Zorro's legs urged me into a gallop and we raced across the hillsides towards the cave.

In the cave, Zorro took his time to check me over for anything off. Hey, I'm fine, I snorted, nudging his shoulder. He smiled at me.

"So, boy. Did you get restless?" I neighed softly. "I thought so. I shall make certain to let you stretch your legs more often so the itch doesn't catch you again. I was quite worried, my boy," he continued, patting my neck and feeding me an apple.

Behind Zorro, I saw Bernardo appearing from the passage. I nuzzled my master again and nudged him to turn. Seeing Bernardo, Zorro's smiled widened. He took off his hat and untied the mask.

"Has Uncle Estevan returned yet?" he inquired. Bernardo nodded eagerly, then pulled an angry face. "Ah," Zorro laughed. "He's not a happy man, I guess." Bernardo laughed and nodded. "I hope it will teach him a lesson." Zorro shook his head, still laughing silently. "I only regret I cannot tease him about it. It would be a dead giveaway."

Definitely. So that familiar smelling stranger named Estevan was Zorro's uncle. How could my Zorro be related to a man that talked so much? But then, there's nothing we can change about who we are related to, man or horse. But with an uncle like this, who needs enemies? Good riddance!

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own anything.


End file.
